Screwed from the Start
by PassionforTwilight
Summary: When Bella Swan finally makes it to her prized summer vacation, the last thing she expects is the danger that finds her the moment she hits the road. Will she come out on top, or will the sordid past of a haunted man manage to screw it all up. AH - E/B.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Screwed from the Start

**Bella Swan - Day One**

**Rating:** NC-17

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended.

**Summary: **When Bella Swan finally makes it to her prized summer vacation after a tough year of work, the last thing she expects is the danger that finds her the moment she hits the road. Will she come out on top, or will the sordid past of a haunted man manage to screw everything up before it even gets started? AH. Edward/Bella. No extreme violence.

**Author's Notes: **My first attempt at all human. Please let me know what you think.

**

I dug through my purse for some extra change and handed it to the cashier with a smile.

"You headed to the beach?" The friendly man behind the counter asked as he placed my money in the cash drawer and handed me a receipt for the gas.

I couldn't help but smile brightly, unable to hide my excitement at the fact that vacation had finally arrived. The few precious months of summer were a highlight for me. I looked forward to them when the stress of the school year and dealing with my students and their parents became too much. Now that I was finally on the road, headed toward my family's oceanside vacation home, I was able to relax and begin "recharging" as my best friend insisted I'd been needing to do since Christmas. My first real year of teaching was a challenge to say the least, and I was truly thankful when graduation day finally rolled around, bringing with it the promise of lazy days spent doing little more than working on my tan and perfecting my guacamole recipe. Make that establishing a tan.

"How did you guess?" I asked with a playful wink.

We both turned to look at my Chevy Traverse sitting at the pump with two large surfboards strapped securely to the top and numerous bags jammed roof-high in the back-seat. My car was the only one at the station, and the kind old man gave me a knowing look as I bounced eagerly on my toes. I gave him a friendly wave and turned to leave with my coffee in hand.

"Have a wonderful time. Drive carefully," he called as I made my way through the doors.

"Thanks!"

I was thrilled to be halfway there already and making such good time on the road. Two of my best girlfriends would be joining me at the beach in three days, but I was secretly glad their jobs were keeping them away for just a bit. The idea of some time by myself to just enjoy the ocean, with no expectations or demands from other people, was thrilling. I made my way back to the car, intent on filling up the tank and finishing the rest of the drive by sundown when I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I called to a man who was crouched down by the back tire on the passenger side of my brand new car.

He shot his head up and met my stare. He was a handsome man with tan skin and a beautiful smile. He stared at me for a second, and I noted how insanely attractive he was, even with the black baseball cap and sunglasses obscuring most of his face.

"I was planning on helping you with this flat tire," he answered smoothly while gesturing to the disaster in front of him.

I followed his gaze and sighed. Of course.

"Oh, shit."

He laughed lightly and gave me a sympathetic nod.

"I didn't even know," I replied as I walked to the back of the car and opened it.

"I'm sure I have a jack and a spare. I've only had this thing a few weeks," I offered.

The man stood and brushed his hands off on the front of his jeans. I followed the motion and took note of his body as he moved closer. It was visibly strong but lean at the same time. He came to stand at my side, and I focused my attention back on the car as I dug through some bags and tried to retrieve everything we'd need to switch the tires out.

"You don't have to do this. I can manage."

"It's no problem."

I stood at his side awkwardly as he knelt down and used the flat edge of the lug wrench to remove the hubcap before he started to loosen the bolts.

"So, where you headed?" He asked after a moment of quiet while he continued to work.

I shuffled my feet on the asphalt and concentrated on his broad shoulders.

"Oh, just another hour or so north. The beach," I explained as I surveyed him. He was dressed casually, but his clothes were nice.

"Sounds like fun." His voice lacked any excitement.

"Yeah, what about you? You work around here?" I asked, wanting to make polite conversation with the man willing to help me so freely.

He huffed.

"No, actually I'm supposed to start a new job tomorrow morning, but a friend of mine didn't show up to drive me the rest of the way. We were supposed to meet here," he explained, a slight scowl taking over his otherwise beautiful face.

I frowned. Why would someone leave him stranded at a gas station with no word?

"They haven't called you?"

"No cell phone. Something must have happened to keep him. It's no big deal. I'll find work somewhere else," he added when I didn't immediately respond.

I instantly felt sorry for him. He seemed very kind, and I wondered how he was so unfortunate as to be without a car, cell phone, or friend when he obviously needed at least one if not all three. I was quietly waging an internal war. Everything about my upbringing ingrained "Stranger Danger" into my mind. Charlie, my dad, would have an absolute fit if he knew the idea of driving this man _anywhere_ even entered my head for an instant, but I felt compelled to help him somehow.

"What's your name?"

He paused for a second before turning to look at me over his shoulder.

"Edward."

"I'm Bella. Nice to meet you," I replied, reaching my hand out and smiling when he took it warmly.

He didn't smile back, but he did nod once.

"Hey, can I grab you some coffee? It's the least I can do." I asked as he resumed changing the tire.

Edward answered immediately, "That would be great."

"How do you take it?"

"Black."

"Ok. I'll be right back."

A million thoughts raced through my mind as I filled a large styrofoam cup and grabbed a bag of chips for myself. I made more small talk with the owner of the store as I paid and assured him that Edward was helping me with everything. He'd noted the trouble himself, and was curious when my car didn't leave the station after a few minutes.

When I made it back to the car, Edward was just finishing up.

"All done?"

"Yes. You're set. The air pressure in the spare is fine, but don't go too far on it. Get it replaced as soon as you can," he explained, concern lacing his words.

I smiled warmly and handed him the steaming cup. His face brightened for the first time as he accepted it gratefully.

"Thank you so much."

"No, thank you," I replied fervently.

"Don't mention it," he replied.

"Ok, well I'm just gonna fill her up," I said lamely, frustrated with myself for not having done so while he was busy working. Now, I felt even more guilty about turning my back on him when he was obviously in need and had just done me a huge favor. His replacing the tire most likely saved me a good half an hour. I could have done it myself, but it would not have been nearly as painless as he'd made the whole process look.

"Can I pay you something, please?" I asked as I removed the nozzle and started to pump the gas.

Edward looked mildly insulted.

"No, don't be silly. Drive carefully, Bella. It was nice to meet you," he said.

I was barely able to manage a lame, "Thanks."

I watched him turn on his heel and start across the small parking lot. He ducked into a pay-phone booth and plucked the receiver off the hook. I stared after him, watching his back as he began talking animatedly with someone on the other end. Eventually, the tank was full, and I replaced the cap before making sure I was set to go. I climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. The radio came to life, and I took a minute to secure my coffee in the cup-holder and grab my cellphone from my purse. I hated digging through my purse, searching for it while driving, so I always placed it on the seat next to me before I got moving. The song playing came to an end, and the local radio host was giving the traffic report with extreme attention to detail. I was about to change the station, but I wanted to hear the latest weather forecast first, so I left it for a minute longer.

Just as I was about to go, I groaned and realized I'd left my bag of chips in the back of the car where I'd set them while I got the gas. I was so hungry, and that snack was going to have to get me to dinner. I put the car in park and hit the button to pop the back. As I made my way back there, I heard the DJ transition to the news portion of the segment, and his voice suddenly took on a much more lively tone.

"We have breaking news affecting Ventura County tonight. Authorities have released a press statement which indicates that an inmate of the Men's Central Jail in Los Angeles escaped custody around noon today and is possibly in the area. The suspect's name is Edward Cullen; he is 6'2", twenty-five years old with brown hair and green eyes. He should be considered extremely dangerous and was serving a life sentence for the first degree murder of his wife at the time of his escape. Authorities insist anyone with information call 911 and do not attempt to intercept the," I felt the bag slip from my fingers as sheer panic rendered me unable to hear the rest of the news report. It couldn't be.

My heart was beating out of control in my chest. It had to be a coincidence. I kept repeating that to myself as I fumbled and reached to close the trunk with shaking hands. Edward was still on the phone. Unfortunately, it made noise closing, and I caught his attention. He turned around to face me. My heaving breaths and panic must have spoken volumes to him. I watched in horror as his face went from despondent and confused to desperate and determined. He knew I knew. It was obvious.

"Fuck." I whispered.

I felt my legs turn to jelly.

"No!" I screamed as loudly as I could as I made a dash for my open driver's side door. I was getting the hell out of there. Fast.

I gasped in absolute terror when I saw Edward drop the phone and start running towards me. I practically jumped into the car and then pulled my door shut before I turned to slam the lock down on the passenger side door. It would be faster than finding the right button on the clusterfuck of controls my side of the car included. Damn car! Why didn't the lock engage automatically?

He grabbed the handle just as I leaned over. The door opened, and I froze for just a second in disbelief. I looked at his face, my reflection staring back at me from the lenses of his sunglasses.

Before he had time to say anything, I threw my door back open in hopes of escaping. Edward reached for my arm, but I yanked it away so forcefully that I fell onto the ground as a result of the effort. I landed on my side, my arm flung out beneath me to absorb most of the impact. I stumbled to my feet and made it a pathetic few yards before he caught up with me. I felt his hands grip my upper arms harshly from behind an instant before he whipped me around to face him.

I screamed for help. Where in the hell was the old man at the register? Why wasn't he watching me now when I needed him? I mentally kicked myself for telling him we had everything under control. He'd probably left his post and gone to a backroom somewhere.

"Shut up and get back in the car," Edward seethed.

I gasped when his hands tightened.

"Just take it. God, please, just take the car," I cried.

He shook his head back and forth. His face was a picture of furry. I was experiencing a level of fear I'd never dealt with before, and I was having a difficult time completing any thought when I desperately needed to figure out an escape.

I watched helplessly as he released my right arm and lifted up his t-shirt with an urgent hand of his own. A gun.

He had a gun stuck in the waistband of his jeans, and his hand gripped it firmly. Then, it was aimed at me. I bit my lip and sobbed. I was so screwed. I clenched my eyes shut and tried desperately to get air into my lungs.

"I said get back in the car. NOW." His voice was cold, emotionless, and I realized I had no choice. I could try and run away from him, but there was no way I could outrun a bullet. He knew that I was aware of his identity at that point, and it only made sense that he thought he couldn't leave me behind. I knew too much.

"I won't...I won't say anything to anyone," I pleaded as I started shuffling to the car, forced by his shoving hands.

He sat me in the driver's seat and pointed the gun meaningfully at my head as he unlocked all the doors; he found the right button instantly. Then, he backed up a step and opened the back door on my side. I closed my eyes when I realized what he'd done. I was going to floor it the moment he walked in front or back of the car. If I had to hit him, I would. If he shot at me while I drove away, I'd have to take my chances. But, no, he got in the back. I tried to calm my racing heart.

"Close your door."

I took a ragged, deep breath and looked into the rear view mirror. He watched me fiercely.

"Don't make me do this," I had to try.

"Drive!"

I was breaking apart inside. My life was suddenly on a very different path than it had been only fifteen minutes ago. Suddenly, the warm balcony and gorgeous sunset I'd been anticipating as my haven for the night seemed a million miles away, and the idea of never seeing that view again was very real.

I gave the car some gas and shook as I gripped the wheel as tightly as possible. We approached the exit of the gas station, and I chanced another look at him. I was shocked when I met intensely green eyes instead of the dark shades he'd had on from the start.

"Go."

"Which way!?" I cried, completely overwhelmed and feeling way too panicked to function.

He took a deep breath and raked a hand over his face.

"Just go north."

I hiccuped.

"Go!"

"Okay!" I screamed.

We headed north.

**


	2. Chapter 2

Screwed From the Start

Chapter Two

**Author's Notes:** This chapter contains _very mild_ scenes of force. Please be warned if you feel these themes may bother you in any way.

**

A few tense moments passed as we made our way back to the freeway. I fought so hard to control the tearless sobs building in my chest as I clutched the steering wheel and accelerated. I was desperate for the rapid beating of my heart to slow. Its out of control rhythm was making me short of breath and causing my hands and legs to shake uncontrollably. Forcing myself to relax was proving impossible. I needed help. I felt so completely shocked and terrified.

"Calm down," he suddenly barked from the backseat. The tone of his voice did nothing to help me achieve his request. It did, however, do the complete opposite. I jumped slightly in my seat, and a pitiful cry escaped my lips. I clenched my eyes shut, frustrated with myself for allowing him to see just how petrified I truly was.

"God damn it," he groaned a second later as I refocused on the road and maneuvered the car toward the onramp.

"Wh…what?" I stuttered, desperate to know if he wanted me to do something differently before I angered him further.

He met my stare in the mirror, and I looked away when the eye contact caused a shiver of pure fear to blaze a path up and down my spine. The silence was horrible. I swear Edward must have been able to hear every beat of my heart and the blood madly rushing through my veins.

He sighed before speaking. His voice was gravely, "Drink some of your coffee."

_What the hell? _I merged over to the center lane and looked longingly at the other cars ahead of us before replying.

"I don't want any."

A blue pick-up truck came up on my driver's side, and I turned to stare at the driver. It was a teenage kid; he didn't look a day over eighteen. He sensed my stare and turned his head to the side after a few seconds.

I stared at him, begging him to see the fear and need on my face. I wasn't sure what I could do. If I mouthed, 'Help me', would Edward retaliate, or harm me? The kid mumbled a few words, which I had to assume were lyrics to the blaring bass and music pouring from his vehicle. He tilted his head up briefly in acknowledgement before speeding away, leaving a few tiny droplets of what I had to assume were diesel fuel on my windshield. I watched him go, biting my lip when I heard a soft grunt from the backseat.

My eyes flashed once again to Edward's stare in the mirror.

He scrubbed a hand over his face before muttering, "Punk."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Look, I don't have anywhere to go right now, so I want you to drive to wherever you were originally headed. I'll figure out what to do then." His voice was cold and detached as he spoke.

I let his words sink in for a minute.

"Did you hear me?" he demanded harshly.

"Yes," I answered with as much calm as I possessed in that instant.

Inwardly, I was even more of a wreck than I thought possible. I was running through a million different scenarios about what could happen once we arrived at the house. I could: try and run the distance to our closest neighbors, make a mad dash to the phones to call for help, try and run from him to the shore and attract attention from beach-goers, or even find a weapon in the house to try and use against him, but none of it would be easy. He didn't seem to have a solidified plan, and it made me crazy with questions. Most importantly, I wanted the damn gun gone. That was the once factor that had me petrified. Was he going to kill me with it once he had my house to himself? I took a moment to mentally slap myself for at one point being thankful for the days I'd have alone at the beach. There was nothing I wanted more at that point than to know that Rosalie and Alice were on their way. Of course, I didn't want my friends in any danger, but if they were at the house before me, or even due to arrive at any minute, I'd have some leverage over my kidnapper. An idea struck me...

"Umm, I just think you should know that some of my friends...uh, they're coming to meet me," I managed to get the whole sentence out before I had to suck in air in what sounded like the gasps one takes after crying for a long jaunt.

Edward's stoic gaze didn't shift. He only nodded solemnly and added, "That's unfortunate."

Internally, I threw a tantrum at his response. It was both scary and frustrating. He obviously wasn't going to be easily deterred. I sighed roughly and scanned the road ahead. There was hardly any traffic, but I could make out some brake lights around a bend in the freeway. I began to debate causing a small traffic accident in order to attempt escaping him. If I slowed and only slightly rear-ended someone, we'd be forced to exit the car and exchange information. I could simply ask the other driver for help, or I could make a run for it the minute I was outside the car. Surely, Edward wouldn't shoot me in front of witnesses. But, would he hurt them, too? I had no idea just how deranged he was, and since the radio broadcast was the only thing I had to go off of, I was forced to assume that he was, indeed, extremely dangerous. A horrible guilt consumed me at the idea of involving another innocent person in our situation. What if the driver I hit ended up being a woman, with kids in her car? What if Edward realized what I was going to do before I was able to accomplish it? Angering him further was touchy ground. I hated all of it.

"You really need to calm down," Edward demanded, causing me to snap out of my speculation and focus on him.

"Calm down!?" I cried, hitting a breaking point I didn't know I was dangerously close to. "How in the hell do you expect me to calm down when you're sitting there with that gun pointed at me? Answer me that!"

Edward's unemotional stare never faltered, but he answered in an eerily detached tone, "Nothing is going to happen to you, Bella. You will be fine. I need a ride right now, and you have a car. It's as simple as that. Whatever you're thinking about doing, I'd highly advise you to forget it and just do as you're told. If you can do that, you'll walk away from this," he began. Silence filled the car, and I shivered at the reality of our conversation. I chanced meeting his eyes once more, and I was surprised to see emotion in their green depths for a second as he finished, "I promise."

His promising me anything angered me greatly. I felt fury and utter contempt possess me as he turned his head to stare at the ocean, which had become visible to our left. I felt the sting of tears for the first time since the entire debacle began. The whole thing was too shocking and unreal for me to begin actually crying until that point, but when I caught the familiar view of waves crashing on the shore, and saw the glittering of the afternoon's sun on the water's surface, I just wanted to be safe. I wanted Charlie's arms around me, and I wanted the comfort of my classroom and students surrounding me. I felt the tears begin to flow freely. My hands slid slightly from their death grip on the wheel.

"Ed..war," I gasped as a full blown breakdown slammed its way through me. Nothing like what was happening to me in that car had ever occurred in my life. I wasn't familiar with the reactions I was having, and I didn't know how to calm down. I didn't think I could.

I looked at him in desperation. His eyebrows snapped together as he studied me, heaving and gasping for air in front of him. Suddenly, he groaned in what sounded like frustration, and I stared helplessly as he quickly moved toward me. His arms came forward, his hands gripping the console between the driver's seat and passenger's side as he steadied himself. I realized what he was doing a second later, and conflicting feelings of relief and dread consumed me. His body suddenly blocked my peripheral vision on the right, and I stared at the road ahead until I felt him settle into the seat beside me. Quickly, his left arm was in front of me, gripping the wheel firmly from the lower half. His wrist brushed against my thigh.

"You can let go of the wheel now," he spoke softly.

I did immediately. My hands flew to my face on their own accord. I wiped the tears away and roughly shoved my hair back.

"Just try to keep your foot steady on the gas," Edward spoke again, and I turned to stare at him.

My eyes searched him frantically. I found the gun resting on his right leg. It was no longer pointed at me.

He was leaning awkwardly to my side, but his arms and upper body were tall enough to keep his position from looking too bizarre to any potential passerby's. His gaze was steadfast as he studied the road in front of us. I steadied myself and took a deep breath, relieved to be able to run both hands over my arms in an attempt to stop the shivering. Edward's eyes flicked to me for a second.

"Look, I just can't stop the car right now. We can't do anything to attract the attention of the police and pulling over, or exiting anywhere for that matter, isn't a good idea."

I nodded slightly.

Edward nodded back. His forearm was directly in front of my waist, and I dropped my head and stared at it and my lap, thankful that the oxygen I was sucking in seemed to actually be soothing my needs for air for the first time in a while. The muscles beneath his tan skin shifted as he guided the wheel competently from my side. It couldn't have been comfortable for him, but he gave no indication that he wanted me to reclaim control.

"Damn that tire," I mumbled after a minute.

"What?"

"If not for that stupid tire, I wouldn't be in this mess," I explained as if he wasn't the one responsible for the entire thing.

He scoffed gently and looked at me once again.

"Bella," he whispered calmly.

His use of my name left me no choice but to meet his stare. When I did, his serious face surprised me.

"Your tire was fine to begin with. I slashed it when you were inside."

My mouth dropped open, and I stared at the side of his face as he returned his attention to the windshield. I noted how his jaw clenched, and I saw him bite his lower lip.

"Why?" I whispered.

"I really needed a ride. No one had stopped at that station for half an hour. I had to establish trust and make you feel indebted if I was going to stand a chance at all."

Unbelievable. Nothing was going to stop the bitter chuckle that left my lips after that, "Right."

He flinched.

"I can't believe this," I admitted before continuing, "I actually felt guilty."

He wrinkled his nose.

"Guilty?"

"Yeah, your clothes, the job, the friend thad didn't show and all," I offered.

Edward's brow arched, and he shot a confused look my way. He was quiet for a few minutes, and I took a few more calming breaths before reaching out and placing my hands carefully at the ten and two o'clock positions. I was sure to avoid touching him in any way. Once he was confident that I was in command of the wheel, his hand slipped from its position, and he retreated to sit back in his seat. He ran a hand through his hair, and I was surprised to catch a whiff of his shampoo and cologne.

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

I rolled my eyes before answering, "It's just that they look new, and I assumed you'd bought them in order to impress your new boss," I explained honestly.

Edward was quiet.

"So, I imagined the hope and expectation you must have had when buying them and looking forward to the job. Then, the disappointment you must have felt when your friend didn't show to pick you up. I didn't want you to have those hopes dashed."

He said nothing for a long while.

"All of that from new jeans, huh?" I could feel his gaze when he finally spoke.

I shrugged my shoulders and shot him a quick look. His face was curious and looked more peaceful than I'd seen it to that point.

Returning my attention to the road, I scanned the ocean quickly and smiled sadly when a large number of dolphins became visible just past the break water. Seeing them was always the highlight of any trip up to the beach. They are almost always visible around sunrise and sunset, and hardly a day passes without numerous pods making their way along the shore as they feed and play. They are truly gorgeous, and I am undeniably captivated by every aspect of them.

I could sense Edward watching them as well. He took a deep breath beside me and remained quiet.

"We're almost there," I pointed out after a few more minutes. "The exit to the house is only about fifteen minutes from here."

"Okay," he answered with his stoic facade back in place. "I just want you to park where you normally would. Pretend I'm just a friend you invited up for the night."

I bit back my bitter retort but planned on doing as he requested. I was beginning to resign myself to the idea that I needed to follow his directions and hope for the best. After all, it seemed like my only option. If an opportunity for escape presented itself, I'd take it. But, until then, I knew I needed to try and earn his trust. If he lowered his guard, I'd be safer than if I continued to do little things to frustrate him.

I exited the freeway and instinctively lowered the windows to feel the salty ocean air. The smell of it stirred feelings of comfort in my belly, which were promptly extinguished when the reality of my situation reaffirmed itself. As I navigated the quaint, side-streets of the beach community I knew so well, I wondered if I'd be able to stroll down them again. I passed the adorable cafe with the best banana pancakes and bit my lip to keep from crying when I envisioned Jim, the owner, with his wrinkled blue eyes and heartwarming smile. God, I wanted to see him again. I drover further and studied the familiar grocery store, noting the scattered cars in the lot.

Eventually, we reached the street, and I drove parallel to the water until the houses became further and further apart. Edward watched me carefully, but he did not move the gun from its position on his right thigh. It still faced the door.

I parked next to the house and once I turned the car off, Edward sighed and shot me a steely look.

"Get out. Go inside; we'll worry about the luggage later."

I pursed my lips together and nodded my head in understanding.

He took a moment to slip the gun back inside his waistband before he placed his hand on the door and waited for me to make a move.

"Do you have the house key ready?"

"Yeah, it's on my keychain," I answered automatically.

"Good. Give me your keys."

I did as he asked.

Then, I gathered every piece of strength I had left and exited the car. Edward was at my side before I even took a step. My legs felt like jelly after such a tense drive, and I swayed dizzily for a second. Instantly, his right arm intertwined with my left and he led me rather quickly to the front door.

"Which one is it?" he asked.

"That one," I pointed to a key amidst several others with a smudge of turquoise blue fingernail polish on the upper portion of it.

"Why do you have so many damn keys?" he barked.

"I teach high school. I have like five different classrooms and six gate keys. I keep them organized with the paint colors," I shot back.

I thought I saw Edward smirk softly for a second before his face hardened into its familiar mask.

"Inside."

I walked through the door at his command and inhaled as the memory-packed house assaulted my senses with its smells and sights. I stood awkwardly in the entryway as Edward closed the door and locked the deadbolt behind us. It clicked into place with what should have been a sound of comfort and security, but instead, it made me tremble. He turned and looked at me.

"Follow me."

I nodded.

He made his way down the hallway toward the bedrooms. It was obvious that he was memorizing the layout as he carefully studied each room we passed. He stopped when he reached the entrance to the family room with the kitchen off to the side. The large sliding glass doors were visible straight ahead, and he seemed to tense minutely when the breathtaking waterfront view presented itself. My gaze shifted to the phone on the side-table only a few yards from where we stood. I no more than looked its way before I felt Edward's hand grip my arm harshly.

"Oh!" I gasped as he turned and marched back the way we'd come with me in tow.

He pulled on my arm, and I began to panic when I glanced up at him and saw nothing but determination and rage on his face. He entered one of the three bedrooms; it was the one my friends were supposed to be using in a few days. If only...

Edward yanked on my arm once again and pulled me to stand by the desk in the corner.

"You're hurting me," I cried when he pulled too hard.

He didn't reply. He only pulled the wooden chair out from its spot in front of the desk and demanded I sit. He began rifling through the drawers of the desk, and I felt the panic rising. I began gasping for air once again as I sat there and watched him. I bounced my legs up and down nervously and ran my hands over my bare thighs. The shorts I was wearing would provide no protection if I tried to kick at him. Even worse, my flip-flops would have to go if I was going to attempt to run.

"No, no, please," I replied desperately when I saw his back tense, and he turned to face me with a roll of duct tape in his hands. He'd found it in the desk, and I realized belatedly that he'd been searching for something to use to tie me up.

"I already told you I won't tell anyone. You don't have to do this. Leave. I won't say a word," I cried.

Edward's face hardened even more. He moved behind me, and I felt his hands grabbing my arms and moving them before he forced me to interlock my hands behind my back. It was slightly uncomfortable, but he allowed me to shift on the chair to ease the pain.

"Don't," I repeated, and I fought him briefly. I shrugged my hands away from him, and moved to stand, but he pulled me back. I felt his breath against the back of my neck, and dropped my head to avoid it happening again.

"I just need some time, and I can't risk you getting away. Stay still," he seethed, and I started to cry once more when his iron grip held my hands in place. I heard the duct tape being pulled before a rip sounded.

Something inside of me broke when I felt the first sticky fibers of it hit the skin of my wrist. Something deep down in my soul was telling me to fight him, so I did. I fought him as hard as I could.

"No!" I screamed as I yanked my hands out of his grip. He seemed surprised, because as I attempted to stand, it took him a second to regain his stance. He'd apparently stumbled back when I shoved away.

Regardless, I wasn't successful. He pushed down on the tops of my shoulders, effectively rooting me to the chair. I realized with complete despair that his incredible strength was not going to be topped. He moved to kneel in front of me, apparently giving up on the idea of standing behind me for any length of time.

I began to cry when he gathered my arms in front of me and resumed his attempts at taping my my wrists together. He took a long piece of tape and managed to wind it partially around them. I tugged the entire time, and I saw his mouth drop open when a few tears rolled off my cheeks and landed on his hands.

"Please!" I continued to cry. I'm not sure what I said, but I begged him in any and every way possible not to do what he was trying to accomplish. I continued my tirade for what felt like minutes. I hiccuped and gasped. I trembled and kicked. I let my head drop to my chest when I had no more energy left.

"Edward, no," I finally muttered after exhausting myself with my futile efforts.

I felt him still then. He'd been holding me in place, but he hadn't attempted fastening the tape during my fit. Once I gave up, I felt his eyes boring into me. I was a statue. I refused to move or speak. You could have heard a pin drop in the room, and I wondered what he was doing.

Then, I felt him stand. He moved away from me. I kept my head down, confused and unwilling to risk doing anything when he was in such a position to harm me.

"I can't fucking do this," I heard him whisper brokenly from a few feet away.

I felt my heart still. I had no idea what the hell he meant.

"Fuck," he whispered again, and with that, I chanced looking at him.

The sight that met me was a complete surprise. There, kneeling on the carpeted floor, gripping his hair with both hands, Edward was watching me with tears of his own flowing freely down his face. There was resignation and agony all over his face. His eyes were alive, but I saw only grief in them.

"Go," he whispered.

I gasped.

He nodded as if to reaffirm that he meant it.

"Go, Bella. Here," he spoke softly, wiping an angry hand over his face and removing the evidence of his crying.

He held my keys out to me, and I stood unsteadily. I took a hesitant step toward him.

I snatched them quickly from his grasp. Once I had them, he dropped his head down and stared at the floor. I continued to stand there, immobilized by the past events.

"Can you just give me ten minutes? Ten minutes, and I'll be gone," he spoke so honestly. I knew, without a doubt, that he was telling the truth. I wondered what it was about his statement that held such finality.

"Okay," I answered.

I turned from him after that, and I ran. I stumbled down the hallway, hating the sobs that I heard coming from him and myself. I threw the door open and raced down the front steps. I made it halfway to my car before I fell to my knees on the gravel driveway. My escape was in sight. I had the keys in my hand, and I fumbled with them as I tried to grasp the remote that would unlock the doors. My fingers were shaking so badly that I had a hard time securing the one I needed. Tears blurred my vision, and the image of Edward's broken face filled my mind's eye. I hated him. I hated what he'd done to me in the past hour, but I was also so damn confused. Why the sudden change of heart? Why did a cold-blodded, convicted murderer have a difficult time simply tying me to a chair? Was he truly evil?

I turned and looked at the front door when I sensed movement. Edward was standing there, concern and confusion evident when he saw me on the ground. I sighed. He walked to me and knelt down.

"You're bleeding," he said quietly.

I felt his fingers brush over my elbows. I must have cut them on the rocks when I braced myself as I fell.

His touch was gentle and reverent. He pulled his hands back the moment he sensed my discomfort.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I'm so sorry."

I looked up then. More tears than I thought possible continued to well up. I was going to have a hell of a headache.

"Why?" I managed.

He sighed before dropping any pretense and truly looking at me.

"Because, I'm not that person, Bella. I'm not a bad man," he cried.

And, damn it. I fucking believed him.

**

More Soon.

And, I'm not abandoning Nice Catch if you're reading that one. The next chapter should be up by Monday. :) Thank you so much for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

Screwed from the Start

Chapter 3

**

I didn't have any words to offer him. It felt as though my ability to speak was suddenly gone. While I didn't think he necessarily deserved a response of any kind, the utterly desperate look on his face evoked the tiniest shred of sympathy in the depths of my heart. I tend to be an extremely compassionate person, but Edward forfeited his rights to any kindness the moment he pointed a gun at me. I battled the nagging desire to engage him in conversation as I began to stand.

He flinched, and a hushed curse flew from his lips as I rose. I was in a hurry to be on my feet, and he was too close. My eyes flew to my own knees when I noticed him staring intently. I sighed when I noticed the tiny scrapes and embedded pieces of gravel just below my kneecaps.

"Oh, shit," I mumbled.

"Yeah," he replied lamely.

I looked up for a moment, and my breath caught when I found him staring directly at me. It was incredibly awkward and unnerving. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Was I to shoosh him away like a stray dog now that he had apparently decided not to hold my hostage? Edward seemed as confused as I felt, but he also seemed intent on making sure I didn't feel any more discomfort. At least we were on the same page.

"I'll just go," he said softly as I brushed at my knees.

I looked up, bit my lip, and nodded my head, because that sounded like a pretty good idea.

He studied me carefully without saying a word.

"You'll call the police?" he asked quietly.

I sucked in a deep breath and took a moment to look around us. The street was quiet. It was a mild day, and I could clearly hear the sound of the waves just a few yards away. Despite the dangerous man in front of me, I began to truly calm down for the first time since I heard the radio broadcast. It was surreal, though. Suddenly, I was standing there having what to any casual observer would have looked like a normal conversation between friends, when only moments prior I was preparing to fight him in fear for my life.

I chanced really looking at him once again before answering. He was gently tugging at his hair with his right hand, and it immediately struck me as a nervous habit since I do virtually the same thing.

"What am I supposed to say to you?" I asked.

Edward said nothing. He looked taken aback.

"It seems a little ridiculous to admit that I'm calling 911 the moment you leave," I replied, giving him the irritated look I usually reserve for my students who come to me with nothing but excuses and apologies when all I really want is their homework.

Again, he said nothing. But, his mouth opened as if he was trying to come up with something. I waited and arched a brow.

"I mean, pissing you off doesn't sound too appealing after the last hour," I finished, my voice dripping with animosity. I couldn't contain it; it had a mind of its own. It was cathartic in some way. I had no idea where I got off giving him attitude at that point, but his timid reactions were only fueling my need to rip him a new one. My emotions were all over the map, and his calm submission was infuriating!

"If you're not an asshole as you claim, you definitely missed your call as an actor," I added spitefully.

His head tilted slightly to the right, but he truly surprised me. I figured he'd lash out and say something hateful, but he did no such thing. He nodded. He agreed. I lost a lot of my momentum.

We stood in a silent stand-off for a what felt like a solid minute. I watched as the breeze ruffled his hair and blew through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Finally, his shoulders slumped slightly, and a quiet sigh left him.

"Take the gun," he whispered so quietly that if I hadn't watched his lips form the words, I wouldn't have believed he'd spoken them at all.

"What?"

"Take it," he repeated as he lifted his shirt and motioned at the butt of the gun as it stuck out from his jeans. The grip was dark and contrasted with his pale white skin. He held his hands up in surrender, his goal to appease me and assure me that he was not going to draw it on me...again.

My eyes widened in horror before I began to shake my head vigorously. I may be the daughter of the Chief of Police, but no one has ever risked letting me handle an armed weapon. No one would if they know more than my first name.

Edward watched me in confusion.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he offered.

I looked at him and bit my lip, trying to figure out what I wanted to say.

"I can't," I explained.

"Why not?"

I waved my hands between us, motioning frantically at the gun and then myself, "What if I shoot your....well, I just, I've never. I can't," I mumbled, turning my head away in frustration after my rambling.

I heard Edward clear his throat.

"You can take the gun, Bella," he repeated.

"I just said I don't want to!"

I swear I saw the corner of his mouth pull up in the hint of a smile before he replied casually, "It's not loaded."

Fuck.

My blood boiled.

"You're kidding me," I surprised myself with the venom in my voice.

Edward shook his head slowly.

I was beyond pissed. I didn't know if I felt more enraged at the fact that he'd fooled me so seriously, or if I was more incensed by his non-chalant way of admitting the whole thing.

"I hate you," I cried angrily, wanting him to see the depth of my fear.

He stared at me and nodded gently, acknowledging my anger with more of his damn acceptance. It only made me angrier.

I reached out and gripped the gun firmly, the backs of my fingers brushing against the skin of his lower stomach. I felt his muscles tremble at the contact, and I froze. He was scared of me. A good portion of my hand was stuck between the gun and his warm skin when I stilled. I lost my nerve the moment I felt the cool weapon in my grasp. I didn't like the feel of it. I noticed Edward wasn't breathing. I could sense his stare on the top of my head. I'd taken two two steps closer to him in my moment of impulsiveness, and I was staring at his chest before I looked down and studied my hand shoved down his pants.

"Jesus," I groaned, "I hate this."

He waved his hands slowly in front of my face.

"Okay, I'm just gonna help you out here," he finally offered.

"Ugh," I replied with a snarl.

Suddenly, I felt his hand join mine. He pulled the gun out himself and held it out to me.

"I don't want it now," I stammered when I realized I hated the very sight of it in his hands. It looked wrong. It was reminded me of that terrible instant back at the gas station, and I just wanted it out of my sight. There was no way I wanted to hold it, let alone have it in my possession.

"Alright."

"So..."

"Okay, well, I'll just be going. I really meant it when I said I was sorry," he spoke quietly, the tone of his voice demanding my attention by sounding so completely forlorn. He put the gun back in his jeans and kicked his foot angrily at the sand in front of him.

Then, he actually turned away from me. I stared at his back and watched him take a few steps toward the end of the driveway. I think it was the defeated slope of his shoulders, and the pitiful way he ran his hands through his hair before hanging his head and holding it as if he could squeeze his haunted past out if he tried hard enough, that really broke me. I felt my heart speeding up again, nearing that dreadful hum which made me feel so sick while we were in the car. I felt the familiar flush of fear, but there was a new emotion slowly spiraling from the center of my chest, and it felt a lot like concern. I was worried. I worried for anybody else he might encounter, I worried for his family, but the most bothersome part was that I worried for him.

I wanted to know his story, but I also wanted to know that it would not end in more tragedy. Why did I care about a man that had put me through a torturous afternoon? I wasn't sure, but I've always been a great judge of character, and my gut was twisting in the way that it does when I know I need to act selflessly. My lips tingled, and I watched him as the distance between us began to grow. He was almost fifty yards away, and I was surprised to realize that I didn't feel safer with him gone. I expected relief to come instantly with his departure. It didn't; I only felt more confused. More questions came to my mind, and I wanted to know not only his story but also his future. I felt some deep-rooted need to know that if he was going to be apprehended, that it would be peaceful. Would the police harm him the moment they learned of his whereabouts? Would he go willingly back into custody if he was caught?

I just had to trust myself, and if I was making a huge mistake, I'd spend the rest of my life comforting myself with the knowledge that I simply cannot turn a cold shoulder on those in need. I'd always considered my kindness a strength, but as I watched Edward leave and knew I couldn't let him go, I said a quick prayer, begging for it not to become a weakness that would lead to my own demise.

"Wait," the word fell from my mouth before I realized I decided to speak it.

I held my breath and watched in fear as his steps faltered. Then, he stilled. He did not turn around immediately, but I saw him turn his head slightly to the left. It was as if he was begging me to repeat it. I froze as well. It was easy to blurt the first time, but with him waiting, it was so very real. I was asking him - a convicted murderer and escapee from prison - to return to me. I was willingly inviting him back into my presence, and I still couldn't talk myself out of it.

He appeared to be waiting for me to make a decision. I couldn't see his face, but I watched his posture and felt nothing threatening coming from him.

"What are you gonna do?" I called to him, chiding myself for the stupidity of that question once I heard it out loud.

Edward turned around to face me once again, and I exhaled when I saw the ruddy, emotional expression on his face. He was truly miserable looking. I hated the idea that he felt so abandoned.

"Run," he answered simply.

I hated that idea, too.

"Where?" I asked, unable to think of any other logical question.

He sighed and shrugged.

"I don't know, Bella. I'm not really an expert at this," his voice was so defeated.

"Who did you call earlier? Back at the gas station, you were on the phone," I spoke loudly, wanting him to clearly hear me from where he still stood as if his feet were glued to the cement.

Edward's eyes flashed with unmistakable agony, and I felt my heart constrict with his.

"My lawyer."

Hope surged within me.

"Oh, that's good, right? You are wanting him to help you explain things?" I asked.

With that, he began walking towards me once more, and I steeled myself for his approach. His eyes were gentle, and I watched carefully for any sign that I should fear him as I once had. Once he was close, I cocked my head and awaited his answer.

"No. He's the one who helped me escape."

I must have looked ridiculous, standing there with my mouth agape and my hands on my hips. Edward waited patiently.

"Of course," I eventually muttered. Why should I have expected anything else? Everything about Edward was shaking up my beliefs.

I took a moment to collect my thoughts, and the constant throbbing from my knees regained my attention.

"My knees really hurt," I mumbled.

Edward looked instantly concerned.

"Look, I know you hate me, and you have every reason to, but I'd like to help you inside if you'll let me," Edward offered, his voice full of good intentions.

I shook my head, "I'm fine. I can walk."

He nodded.

I began to turn back to the house, unsure of what I expected him to do in return, but the gasp I heard changed everything in an instant.

"No, no!" he whispered in complete despair.

I whipped my head around to look at him. He was staring intently in the other direction, and I saw dread mixed with paralyzing fear all over his face. His forehead was crinkled in worry, and his eyes flew rapidly in all directions as he searched for something.

"What?" I asked, growing panicky because of his reaction.

He looked at me with wild eyes, "There's a cruiser coming."

I craned my head back in the direction of the street and saw the source of his fear with my own eyes. A marked Sheriff's car was approaching, and Edward appeared fixated on it. I turned my attention back and forth between the car and Edward. He was helpless.

"Edward," I called to him, but he did nothing.

"Edward," I tried once more.

The car was nearing my end of the street, and the officers would undoubtedly see us soon. While it wasn't uncommon for the local police to often patrol the streets closest to the beach, it was odd that they were driving so slowly down a more quiet, residential street at dinnertime. It did seem as if they were looking for something...or someone. Was it the someone that was standing in front of me with nothing but terror in his eyes? I watched him and marveled at how only moments ago, he'd claimed that he'd never go back to prison, but when the harsh reality of his circumstances were staring him in the face, he seemed unwilling to continue to break the law.

"Edward, they're coming," I whispered urgently. Our positions were instantly reversed. I was urging him to seek cover.

His green eyes flashed to mine, and the intensity they held caused all of the air to leave my lungs in one loud rush.

"Help me," he begged.

He was giving me the choice.

"Yes."

"Please," he added unnecessarily.

"Come inside," I said.

His face was awash in disbelief at my words.

"Come on, hurry," I demanded.

My plea suddenly brought him back to life. He bounded up the steps to the front porch and waited while I stepped through the door. Once I was inside, he closed the door behind us, leaving it unlocked. He turned, and we stared at each other. I couldn't take it after a few seconds. He seemed reluctant to turn around and face the outside world.

"Did they see us?" I asked, moving back in the direction of the front door.

Edward was quiet. I walked to the door and carefully stood on the tips of my toes to look out the glass portion. The car was just passing the front of the house. My heart hammered. It continued on its way, seemingly none the wiser.

"They're leaving," I said, turning to find him still facing the opposite way.

"Did you hear me, Edward? They didn't see anything."

He nodded, and I moved to stand on the other side of him so that I could see his face. His eyes were watery, but it was the appreciation in his features that moved me most. It became clear to me then; I was in one hell of a mess.

Suddenly, I needed space, and I needed to focus on something that wasn't his face for a few minutes.

"I need some water and band aids. This way," I explained.

He followed me quietly. I went into one of the small bathrooms and tended to my knees quickly while Edward continued on into the family room at my direction. When I exited, I found him staring out the slider doors, watching the sun set with its brilliant orange and yellow tones lighting up the sky. He looked back when he heard me approach, taking in my bandaged knees with a tight smile before he began to walk.

"You have to start talking," I managed as I sat down on the couch and watched him pace like a trapped animal.

He nodded his head without lifting his gaze from the floor.

"I know."

"Like, now," I reiterated, not willing to wait another second for him to do some explaining.

I had no idea how long I was going to let him remain in the house. As far as I was concerned, he was a fugitive and guilty of forcing me to aid his efforts. I wanted some answers before I made any decisions. Nothing could have prepared me for the things that began to spill from his lips. Nothing.

His green eyes met mine, and I held my breath while his face experienced a myriad of emotions. It appeared as though he was gathering every bit of strength left inside of him. He straightened his shoulders and spoke quietly. I had to strain to hear certain words, but the important ones were clearly audible, "I didn't do it." His eyes flashed with pain, and I studied him carefully. His lower lip trembled. I was left to wonder how many times he had asserted that fact in the past. He said it in a way that seemed to exude the belief that I would just dismiss it with a wave of my hand and condemn him further to Hell. He continued to watch me for a minute more before repeating in a hushed whisper, "I did not kill my wife."

I only nodded stupidly, unsure of what I thought. I didn't know what else to do.

**

Thanks for reading. I truly appreciate any and all reviews.


	4. Chapter 4

**Screwed from the Start**

Chapter 4

**Author's Notes:** Thanks again for every review. I really appreciate them, and I love hearing what everyone has to say. Please join us in the All Human forum to chat about the story.

**

I realized that my hand had flown to my chest when he spoke. I carefully removed it and placed both on my knees, partially to mask the shaking in my legs, and also to help distract myself from the horrific fact he'd just admitted.

His wife was dead, and according to authorities, at his hand.

"Go ahead," I whispered, nodding as encouragingly as I could.

"I married when I was only twenty-one. I met my wife when I was beginning medical school," Edward started talking, his back to me as he faced the balcony.

I said nothing in response. I didn't want to chance interrupting him.

"We knew each other for two years before I proposed. It felt like it was time, and her family was very persistent in expressing their desire for us to be married," he explained, and I thought I detected a tiny bit of resentment in his tone.

"Oh," I added uselessly.

He took a deep breath, "It's been five years since we were married, and just two years since she was found dead in our apartment; her death the result of massive trauma to the head," his voice became more hushed as he spoke.

I swallowed loudly and wrung my hands nervously in my lap.

"Massive trauma to the head?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly with the reality of my words.

Edward turned to face me; his face was the picture of sadness.

His eyes were the only answer I needed.

"I came home and found her on the floor in the middle of our family room. There was so much blood. I just went to her. I didn't think at all, but she was already gone."

He bit his lip, and it was in that instant that I began to recognize the habit as something he does when fending off his emotions. The small amount of pain he derives from sinking his teeth into his lip is apparently helpful in keeping his focus off the swell of anguish he is experiencing. I tried to recount the number of times I'd seen him do that since meeting him at the station. Numerous times...that was all I came up with.

"Edward?" I whispered, somehow feeling the need to echo his somber tone.

"It didn't matter what I said to the police and paramedics when they finally showed up. It was my fucking footprints all through her blood. It was only my fingerprints on the baseball bat. It was my damn hair all over her from holding her until they came."

I was shaking by then. I could feel the nervous flutter in my legs from my position on the couch. I knew that if I stood, they would feel incredibly wobbly, and despite my desire to put some more physical distance between myself and the man in front of me, I stayed where I was and asked whatever came to my head.

"Baseball bat?" My voice was chock full of hesitancy. I didn't think I really wanted to hear the next part.

Edward's eyes softened, and he ran his hands through his hair before backing up a few feet. He seemed to sense my discomfort and immediately did whatever he could think of to lessen it.

"Yes," he answered simply.

I shook my head back and forth, "Oh my God."

He nodded sadly.

"My own neighbors testified that they heard arguing coming from our apartment an hour or so before the police showed up. People I'd never met before condemned me without a fucking chance," he mumbled, turning his head away from my intense scrutiny.

I watched him for any sign of deceitfulness. He wasn't fidgeting nervously as he spoke, nor was he shifting his eyes around. He seemed resigned. He appeared defeated.

"An affair?" I asked carefully, mentioning the first thing that came to mind when he spoke of arguing.

Edward's eyes blazed passionately for a moment, but he said nothing. Then, he sat in the oversized armchair directly across from me and rubbed his hands on his thighs.

"I honestly don't know anymore, Bella. I was adamant in the early phases of the trial that she was not unfaithful. But, my lawyers started uncovering all kinds of stuff that I had no idea about. I suppose, if you dig deeply enough, you can find incriminating evidence on anyone, but I really don't know. The prosecution found no proof of an affair. They fought that the arguing was, in fact, Tanya and me. They said I was suspicious of infidelity and killed her while enraged by her denials of any such affair."

"Why would they think you were suspicious of her?"

"I was serving my internship at the hospital. I was away all the time, and the prosecution claimed I couldn't stand all the pressure. One of Tanya's girlfriends testified that I was always accusing her of cheating. None of that was true. I trusted my wife."

"Were there any other suspects? Did either of you have any enemies?" I payed little attention to the fact that I was stringing multiple questions together in rapid fire. In my opinion, he was obligated to answer them.

Edward laughed bitterly, "That's the million dollar questions, isn't it? It's what's haunted me since day one. I don't know who did it, but I know it wasn't me. Unfortunately, that's what every murderer says." He seemed to have difficulty letting the word "murderer" slip from his mouth.

His face showed nothing but disgust for the term, and I definitely took note. He was quickly becoming an open book for me, and I was thankful that his emotions seemed to play easily across his face. It helped to ease my fear of him.

I thought carefully before saying anything in response. It was endearing to hear that he refused to believe his wife was capable of cheating on him. I even admired his loyal defense of her, but I couldn't completely rectify those beliefs with the idea that he claimed to have no knowledge of the reason for the fight. If what he was saying was true, he had to be suspicious himself about who was involved in a heated exchange in his home...with his wife.

"What actual evidence did they have?" I asked quietly.

Edward looked even more defeated then. He slumped back in the chair and eyed me steadily for a moment before he closed his eyes. I felt a strange sensation of protectiveness surge through me as I watched him sitting there with his defenses weakened. He may have appeared to be sleeping, but the worried creases in his forehead were very prominent, and there was no relaxation in his features. I knew better.

He began to speak without opening his eyes, "They had everything they needed: her blood on my clothes, my footprints throughout the house, only my prints on the bat, neighbors who knew of me as an absentee husband and my wife as the adorable girl next door, whom they all thought of as their own daughter, co-workers of mine who were forced to admit that I'd been short-tempered with them leading up to the murder, and most importantly, the fight heard shortly before her death. That was it. All circumstantial, but that doesn't seem to have fucking mattered, does it?" There was complete frustration in his voice as he finished, and I flinched slightly at the angry inflection his question held. It did scare me.

Edward's eyes opened, and he looked concerned for an instant before he stood from the chair. I took a quick breath out of instinct; the sight of him moving quickly toward me caused an immediate and unconscious response.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," he spoke fervently as he moved to the balcony doors.

"It's okay," I replied.

He met my stare and gestured at the doors, "May I go out there for a minute?"

"Yes," I was proud of the strength in my voice.

Edward smiled sadly and nodded his thanks before sliding open the door and slipping from my sight. I knew enough to recognize his need for a moment alone. And, if I was being honest with myself, I respected his desire for solitude after talking about his past, but I had so many more questions. I figured I'd give him a few minutes before asking anything more. I occupied myself by turning on the television for background noise and thinking through the information he'd provided to that point. While I had to admit that the evidence definitely pointed to him, his defense also seemed credible. It was completely overwhelming.

I stood to make my way to the kitchen. I needed to figure out what condiments were still good in the refrigerator, and what I would need to buy when I went grocery shopping. Despite the dramatic turn of events and altered path the afternoon had taken, I still needed to believe that normalcy would reign, and the week would go on as planned. I was holding onto that idea as a way of keeping my wits about me in the middle of such a surreal predicament. I made it a few steps away from the couch before movement on the balcony caught my eye. I turned to look more carefully, and my breath caught when I saw Edward. His hands were braced on the ledge in front of him as he stood facing the ocean. His head was hanging pitifully, but it was the violent shaking of his back and chest, which I could see even from my position, that struck me. He was sobbing; it was obvious. I felt frozen in my spot. Every single piece of me wanted to go to him, but I knew it was wrong to be feeling that desire. I'm wired to give comfort to those in need. And, the man outside those doors was so direly in need. I bit my own lip, and then cursed when I realized what I was doing.

"Unbelievable," I whispered to myself a second before reaching for the handle.

If Edward heard me open the door, he gave no indication of it. His sobs were quiet, but there was no mistaking the violent shudders running through his body, or the way he had to hold himself up by tightening his grasp on the balcony's edge. His hands were white from the exertion and force in his grasp. I carefully made my way toward him, trying to decide if it would be wise to speak to him first. I had no idea what surprising him would do, but I had to trust that he wouldn't hurt me anymore. Otherwise, the entire chain of events up to that point was for not.

I reached my right hand out and laid it over the middle of his back before I had time to talk myself out of it. His head shot up, and his body stiffened in response.

"Sorry," I whispered for lack of anything better to say.

Edward held his breath and nodded frantically, and I assumed it was only to stem the uncontrollable crying. His face was scrunched up, and I felt even more of the line drawn between us erase when he looked at me uncertainly.

"It's okay. You need to cry," I said, wanting nothing more than for him to just take a damn breath.

He gasped and sucked hungrily at the air the instant I was finished speaking, and at some point, I'd begun moving my hand in soothing patterns over his back. I stared at my own hand, wondering why it felt so at home over the material of his shirt. I focused on the back of his head as he fought to get his breathing under control. My heart was breaking as I watched him. I wondered if he'd truly grieved for his wife at any point. I would imagine that standing trial, and being convicted of her murder, would not leave much time for truly accepting the tragedy in the situation.

I never let my hand venture beyond the expanse of his strong back. For several reasons, I wasn't willing to touch his head or arms. That just felt too personal. I didn't want him to think I was willing to be any closer, but I also couldn't stand to ignore his definite need for support. After a few minutes, his crying stopped, and he steadied his breathing.

"I'm really sorry," his voice was gravely, and I cringed at the devastation in his eyes as he faced me.

My hand fell from his back.

"For what?"

"This," he waved a hand at the balcony, indicating our current situation before continuing, "Everything, really," he added with a frustrated shrug of his shoulders.

"I can forgive you," I answered honestly.

"Can you really?" There was such hope in his voice.

"Yes, eventually."

"I'll do whatever it takes," he affirmed.

"What about your family, Edward?" I asked once he had calmed.

He looked at me for a moment licking his lips and beginning, "The whole thing pretty much devastated my father, Carlisle. My mom passed away when I was seventeen. He remarried, and his wife tends to take up a lot of his time. I was in school, and Tanya had her own obligations, so we weren't in touch as much as either of us would have liked."

"I see."

"So, when the whole thing happened, he was completely shocked. I don't think he knew what to do. For the first time in his life, he wasn't capable of protecting his loved ones. He stood by me through the trial, but I saw the doubt in his eyes toward the end," Edward's voice trailed off, and I felt anger at this man, Carlisle, without even knowing him.

"It wasn't his fault. Everyone believed I did it."

"If what you're saying is true, the courts completely failed you," I added.

Edward frowned before answering, "Yes, but ultimately, I failed to convince twelve men and women of my innocence. I believe in justice. I believe in the way the system works. It's never been about that."

His admission surprised me. I found myself in awe of his ability to maintain faith in something that screwed him over so royally.

"How did you get away?"

His eyes flew to mine, and I stared at him expectedly. He owed me all the answers.

"I can't tell you that, Bella." There was such remorse in his statement, and I arched an eyebrow in confusion. It seemed like a reasonable question, and I was confused by his response.

"Why not?"

"It's just that I won't let the person who helped me suffer for any of this. I owe them too much, and if..." he hesitated, and I waited patiently while he stared at the floor for a second before continuing quietly, "_When_ I'm caught, I don't want you to know anything that they can use against the person, either. If you don't know, you can't withhold anything. I won't let anyone pay for what they've done for me."

I thought over his explanation for a minute. It made sense. However, that made it no less frustrating for me.

"You already told me one of your lawyers was involved in your escape," I added.

Edward's face paled. He looked horrified, and I smiled softly, hoping to calm him down.

"It's okay. I'll drop it, for now. But, it is important to me, and if you decide you can trust me enough to tell me, I'd really appreciate it," I explained.

He was visibly shocked.

"Okay."

We were both quiet for a few minutes. Edward ran his hands over his face and wiped at any remaining tears under his eyes.

"Maybe you should take a shower. It might help you relax," I offered.

He eyed me carefully, disbelief in his features.

"That would be okay with you?"

"I suggested it."

He blanched.

"Look, Edward, I don't know what we're doing here, but I'm not going to turn you in tonight. I have no idea why, but I believe parts of what you've told me, and some part of me wants to trust all of it. I may be wrong about you, but I will let you stay here tonight. In the morning, you need to call whoever it is that helped you into this mess and figure out your next step," I tried to keep my voice steady, but I was growing more and more nervous as I explained my decision to him.

His face was a mask of indifference as I continued, "You must have felt completely hopeless to have decided that breaking out of jail was your best option, and I'm not able to judge you on that since I'm clueless about the whole thing, but I don't condone what you've done...not any of it. On the other hand, that doesn't mean I don't sympathize with your situation, which is why I'm willing to let you stay until tomorrow. You need some time; you've got it. Please, don't make me regret this," I finished with a shiver.

His face morphed into one of disbelief and deep appreciation.

"The bathroom is down the hall, second door on the right. There should be plenty of towels in the cupboard."

With that, I walked quickly toward the door and re-entered the house. I didn't want to stand around and second think my decision to let him stay in my home for the night. I had no idea where my explanation for allowing him the night came from, but it burst forth from me with conviction and reason. Who was I to doubt it?

I made my way to the kitchen and was happy to find a frozen pizza and some juice concentrate in the freezer from the last time Renee was up with Phil. Charlie and my mom remained amicable after their divorce, and since Charlie moved up to Washington, he had no issues with letting my mother and her new husband spend time in what was once my parent's vacation getaway.

I quickly unwrapped the pizza, preheated the oven, and then escaped into my bedroom. Edward was still on the balcony, and I just wanted to give him space. I groaned in frustration when I realized that all of my bags were still down in the car. There was nothing normal about the way I'd started my vacation, and I had a lot of relaxing to do before any of it would feel comfortable. I felt for the keys in the pocket of my shorts, thankful when I found them and realized I hadn't left them on the driveway after our strange confrontation. I cast one look over my shoulder, not seeing any sign of him, before I opened the front door and headed to the car.

I had two bags with clothes and toiletries, and those were the only ones I was concerned with getting into the house for the night. The boards and beach stuff could wait. I made it back inside quickly. I dug through my bag, finding the bathing suit, sweatshirt, and lounge pants I wanted with little difficulty. I'd packed carefully, since I wanted to be able to completely enjoy my time off. I changed into the suit and threw the clothes on over it. Once I brushed out my hair and secured it in a pony tail, I felt a lot more centered. The night was surely out of the ordinary, but it wasn't the end of the world.

I took a calming breath before exiting the bedroom. When I did, I heard running water in the bathroom, and warm light spilled from beneath the door. I could see Edward's shadow moving around, and I knew he hadn't stepped under the water yet. He was letting it warm. I continued to the kitchen and slipped the pizza directly onto the rack. After setting the timer for twenty minutes, I all but flew to the side-door of the house. I'd been waiting for my escape to the beach for months, and nothing was going to hold me back a second longer...

***

The sand was cool and refreshing under my bare feet. I dug my heels deeper and buried them under the incredible softness while I watched the white froth of each wave skip and swirl over the dark shore. It was very dark, the moon only a sliver in the sky. The night was clear enough, though, and the numerous stars visible were a breathtaking sight over the ocean's picturesque backdrop.

Many have told me that they dislike the beach at night. They find it eerie or lonely in some way. I've never understood that. It's so completely blissful once the sun has set, and the crowds are gone for the day. Without the buzz of constant activity, you can truly enjoy the smells and sounds. You can just sit and stare with no one interrupting you. It's so much more real.

I looked up and studied the glittering oil rigs, several of them visible on the horizon. Their brilliant lights seemed to twinkle in the distance, and I briefly wondered about the men and women aboard each one of them. I was sure that they must experience loneliness and frustration out there, working two to three weeks at a time before returning for time off. I thought of Edward, then. The misery in his voice was so evident as he explained his past. It was all so fresh in my mind, and I wrapped my arms around myself when a strong breeze elicited shivers. I thought about everything he'd shared with me, the details of the murder and the events leading up to his arrest. It surprised me that he claimed to still believe in our justice system, seeing as how it apparently failed him in every way possible if his defense is the truth. The truth...how utterly infuriating to not know with any certainty the validity of a story being told to you.

It was excruciating.

"Bella," his gentle voice broke me from my jumbled thoughts. He sounded tired.

I turned my head and looked at him over my shoulder. His hair was visibly damp, and his entire demeanor seemed more relaxed.

"Thank you for the shower," he spoke quietly. I watched him carefully, noting the way his gaze shifted from me to the water every few seconds.

I thought I saw passion light his eyes. It was stunning to see him come alive. I nodded and returned my attention to the sea for another minute before breaking the comfortable silence.

"Do you enjoy the beach?" I asked, suddenly desperate to talk about something normal for a minute.

His eyes crinkled slightly with the genuine smile that graced his face, "I love it."

There was no mistaking the truth in his words. It permeated every word.

I nodded and smiled softly, "Me too."

With that, I stood and moved closer to the water. I stripped off the sweatshirt first, then moved to slide my pants down. I made sure they were in a safe bundle, away from the water's edge. I took a few steps, and my toes hit the first few inches of water. It was biting cold, but I was prepared for the temperature, and it felt like home. I knew this beach well.

"What are you doing?" Edward's voice was frantic and came from directly behind me.

I turned to look at him and noted the mild panic on his face.

"Just swimming."

"Now? It's way too dark. That's dangerous," he spoke quickly, and I laughed softly at the urgency in his voice.

"It's okay, Edward. I do it all the time."

"It's still dangerous," he repeated, his forehead wrinkled even more in worry. I realized I didn't like those lines at all. I wanted them to go away.

"I never go far out. I'll be back in a few minutes," I offered, wanting to reassure him in some way that I'd be fine even though his concern was unwarranted.

"There's a pizza in the oven. It will burn if you don't go get it," I called to him as I ventured to the point where the gentle waves were crashing into my stomach. I shook with the cold as the water hit every new inch of skin. I didn't want to prolong the torture any longer than necessary, so I took a deep breath and dove under the next wave I saw coming in the moonlight.

Swimming through the pitch black water felt absolutely incredible. I could feel tiny grains of sand rolling and skidding over my skin, the water tumultuous so close to shore. I surfaced and took another breath before diving back. I swam parallel to the shore for a few yards before turning and heading back the other way. The cold water and complete serenity I felt was refreshing in every way. I loved the shocking combination of the freezing ocean mixed with the strange warmth and sting of the sand. Once I began to feel my muscles burn, and the cold began to bother me, I made my way back to the beach. I stood and walked through the waves, surprised to see Edward in the same spot I left him in.

He stood tall, and he was out of breath.

"You ran, didn't you?" I asked, smiling in thanks when he handed me the towel I'd left in our original spot.

"Yes."

"Was the pizza done?"

He blinked rapidly as I looked up from drying off my legs.

"Umm, yeah. It looked great," he finally answered.

"I still think that was foolish," he mumbled half-heartedly as I nodded and made my way past him.

"You made that clear," I acknowledged.

Edward huffed quietly and followed me into the house. We both ate quietly. I had two pieces before I felt completely full, my stomach still uneasy after the day's events. Edward ate heartily, and I encouraged him to finish everything he could. We sat in silence for a moment before I worked up the nerve to address the sleeping situation.

"You can have the bedroom from earlier. You know," I cleared my throat and eyed him meaningfully.

I knew the second he realized I meant the room he'd attempted to tie me up in, because his mouth dropped open slightly, and he frowned once more.

"Right, of course," he answered.

I nodded and stood.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Yeah, well, goodnight. Everything you need will be in the room, but there's extra blankets and pillows in the linen closet."

I didn't chance a look at his face as I bid him goodnight. I wasn't sure what I would see there, and I wasn't strong enough for another breakdown of any kind. I felt my own emotions bubbling at the surface, and I was beginning to feel desperate for the sanctity of my own room. Edward didn't move as I scurried past him and closed my bedroom door behind me. I left him to shut off the TV and lock up for the night, but I knew he would do so thoroughly. His worried attitude about my swim on the beach convinced me of at least one thing; he is sensible.

I shed my clothes and climbed into a hot shower with a loud sigh. I barely managed to rinse the shampoo from my hair before the tears started to fall. There was no sobbing, and I continued the practiced routine of my shower despite the emotion pouring out of me. I conditioned my hair and washed my body as the stress of the day flowed from me. It was horrible, and it was completely unbelievable, but it was real. Once I was finished, I dressed in comfortable shorts and a t-shirt and dried my hair only until it wasn't sopping wet.

Exhaustion spread through my body, and I climbed into bed as it began to weigh my arms and legs down with serious force. I stared at the ceiling, listening for any noise from him, but there was nothing. I though of Googling him the next day and calling my family. I didn't intend to tell anyone about Edward, but I wanted people to know where I was and to expect to hear from me. Rosalie and Alice would be on their way in a few days, but that seemed like an eternity away with Edward under the roof for the night. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the fear Edward must have been feeling during his trial, listening the case mount against him. It had to have been horrible. So horrible.

***

I woke with a start. I sat up in the middle of my bed and looked around nervously. It was way too dark in the room, so I reached out and fumbled under the shade of the bedside lamp for a second before locating the switch. Soft light flooded the room, and I took a deep breath when I realized nothing was amiss. I was alone in the room, and I was safe. I glanced at the clock and sighed when I noted that it was only three in the morning. I felt completely awake after waking so dramatically from my dreams. The events of the past day played like a movie in my head, and I blinked my eyes a few times to dispel their scary ties.

My throat felt dry, so I threw the covers off and started for the bedroom door. I'd locked the door behind me, and opening it caused a tiny click as the lock disengaged from the inside. I stepped into the darkened hallway and gasped when I tripped over something.

It was something solid and big. It also groaned when I kicked it.

"What the hell?" I whispered loudly, my hand flinging out to find the light switches to the hallway. I hit one of them, and light spilled from the opposite end of the hall in my direction.

I steadied myself with a deep breath and studied the scene before me. Edward was sound asleep, slumped against the wall directly across from my bedroom door. His legs were long and practically touched the door from his position. I looked at the dark circles and bags under his eyes with concern. He looked like shit, and he was also a total asshole. I'd given him more than a couple chances and forgiven him for grievous offenses against me, and still, he didn't trust me enough not to turn on him the moment I was out of his sight.

I bent down and gently shook his shoulder.

"Go to your bed," I said.

I noticed the worry lines were faded. He was truly asleep.

"You're not a very good guard," I whispered to him.

No response.

"Edward, I'm escaping and calling the police," I spoke with more volume that time.

Still nothing.

"Wake up, Edward."

He snored. He actually fucking snored at me.

I grumbled and went back to room, grabbing two pillows from the numerous pile on my bed. Once I also had the comforter secured in my grasp, I returned to him and laid the pillows a few feet from his position against the wall. I stood back and eyed him warily. I convinced myself my plan would work. I knelt down on his left side and as gently as possible, pushed on him until he began to slide toward my makeshift bed. I guided his head to the pillows and sighed when he seemed to sense their presence, burrowing further into them and turning his body to a more comfortable position.

"Yeah, you need sleep, don't you?" I whispered to him, knowing I'd receive no response.

I stood and covered him with the large blanket. It was chilly in the house at night, and I'd make sure to adjust the thermostat before returning to my bed. I was sure the floor didn't make for a very comfortable bed, but I'd do everything I could to help him at that point. I was committed.

**

Thanks for reading. Reviews are so loved!


	5. Chapter 5

**Screwed from the Start**

**Chapter 5**

**Author's Notes:** Thank you for the reivews. Please join us on the Twilighted Forums. All Human.

**

I was completely frustrated for the remainder of the night once I returned to my bed. I tried as hard as I could to fall asleep, but I just couldn't make my mind stop. My thoughts were all over the map. I wished intently for the ability to know the whole story, and I kept coming up with more questions for him. I kept seeing Edward's pain-stricken face, and I listened as intently as possible, wondering if his soft snoring would be audible from his position outside the door. I couldn't hear anything, though, and it bothered me that I found the silence suffocating. Some part of me wanted to know that he continued to sleep peacefully. Why? I had no idea, and the bizarre battle of wills I played with myself was unnerving. I chastised myself for even considering a trip back to open the bedroom door a sliver.

As I tossed and turned, watching the darkness in my bedroom become a hazy gray, I made tentative plans for the day. Mentally organizing my "To-Do List", and visualizing everything I intended to get done, usually helped me to start a day with calm and focus, but I was having a hard time even visualizing the first part of the morning, which would undoubtedly involve seeing Edward. I didn't know what he, or his attitude, would be like in the light of a new day. I wasn't sure if the honesty and candor he displayed the night before would remain once he had time to really think about his situation. I was scared that he would be angry and withdrawn. I feared him shutting me out, because I'd become involved in his plight and that was no longer an option. Wrong or right, I was a part of his escape, and I dreaded the inevitable end. Of course, he'd have to leave, and I would be relieved when he did, but then what? I would just pretend it never happened. I'd tell no one? I knew that would be impossibly hard, and I hated the thought of keeping a secret like him. If his story was true, it needed to be shouted from the rooftops. Someone, no, make that a lot of people, needed to start digging a whole hell of a lot deeper into what actually happened in his apartment the day of the murder. His defense team needed their asses kicked, and a murderer deserved to be brought to justice. It all hinged on the supposed truth of his claims.

Finally fed up with trying to sleep, I donned a sweatshirt and took a few minutes to brush my teeth and hair. The first thing I needed to do was hit the local grocery store. I needed to do a big trip before the girls arrived, but I figured stocking up on some essentials would get me through the first couple of days. I slipped on my beach boots and approached the bedroom door quietly, opening it as slowly as possible to avoid disturbing him if he was still there. I saw my pillow first. Sitting on top of it was the comforter from my bed, folded neatly but abandoned nonetheless. I exhaled a breath I didn't realize I was holding and made my way to the kitchen.

I peered into the family room on the way and saw no sign of him. I felt my heart begin to drop. Everything was tidied up from the night before. The room was silent; he'd turned the television off and locked up as I assumed he would. I checked the balcony next. I slid the door open, inhaling deeply when the morning air instantly surrounded me. The cool, briny breeze screamed of a fresh start. That's just one part of what I love about the beach. While every morning is a new beginning regardless of where you are in the world, you can literally smell the newness when you're near the water. However, I was alone in my enjoyment of the moment, and that bothered me...deeply. Edward was nowhere to be found. The morning was overcast, and I looked down to the beach, seeing only a few joggers and a man fishing at the shoreline. A stray sea lion was meandering in the breakwater. I sighed and turned back, hating the little flutters in my belly which told me I was growing even more nervous and distraught.

I walked back inside and checked the bathroom before sitting on the couch in a stupor. I was dumbfounded and mildly hurt. He'd left and didn't even see fit to leave me a note. I continued to sit there for a few minutes, replaying the past day for the hundredth time. I thought about what I said to him before we went to bed. I told him I'd give him until morning to figure out what to do. I felt my stomach turn when I considered that maybe he thought that meant I preferred him gone by the time I was up. After all, he had folded the blanket I gave him and cleaned up all evidence of our dinner, his way of erasing any reminder of his presence. But, that was all in vain in my opinion. Every second since first laying eyes on him was vivid in my mind. I could recall every word he said to me.

I was just flabbergasted that he would leave without saying anything. Then, I debated whether saying something to me was too difficult for him to manage. Perhaps he didn't want to face what he'd done again. He didn't want me to know anything about what he was going to do next. He'd apparently meant it when he said that he didn't want me to have to lie for him...about anything. So, his answer was to simply disappear. I couldn't decide whether that made me admire him to a degree, or made me feel completely unappreciated. After all, he'd demonstrated a great level of mistrust when he planted himself outside my bedroom door for the night, and it made me angry that he didn't even trust me to know when he was leaving, either. Eventually, I decided that my only course of action was to do my best to forget the entire thing. My nose didn't belong in his business, and he'd given me my safety and freedom just as he'd promised. Sometimes, as screwed up as it sounds, it's best to just stay out of it. I wouldn't turn him in or tell anyone about what I'd experienced. There was no point. It all just sucked. I'd follow the news, look for information on him, and spend a long time trying to erase the sounds of his desperate crying and defeated looks.

LIfe isn't fair. When I was in high school, one of my most beloved teachers shared a favorite quote, and it remained with me ever since. It says, 'How far you go in life depends on your being tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving and tolerant of the weak and strong. Because someday in life you will have been all of these.' While I was in no way able to imagine myself a fugitive of the law, or ever being accused of a serious crime for that matter, I knew that I would not change my sympathetic nature simply to do what I knew society would feel was required of me. I had to trust my own judgement.

As the thick cover of clouds began to thin and soft rays of morning light spilled through the windows, I grew sick of my pity party and stood with a defeated sigh. Deciding that I'd try and get some of my tasks done before escaping to the beach to relax for the day, I gathered my purse and checked to see what items I needed to add to my shopping list. After adding coffee filters, mustard, seasoning salt, and dishwasher detergent to the list of actual food items, I focused on what I needed to get the bedrooms ready for Rosalie and Alice. I wanted my friends badly at that point. I felt raw and exposed, but I knew they would not hold my somber mood against me. They would only offer my support and companionship. And, if I concentrated on their impending arrival, I'd hopefully be able to stop thinking about _him_. I wanted to forget as soon as possible, because I could still feel his presence all around me, and it was suffocating.

I walked through the entire house once more, checking for anything that he may have left. There was nothing. I stopped outside my bedroom and picked up the pillow, inhaling deeply before I could think too much about my need to reaffirm that he was real. The smell was incredibly strong. It was obvious that he'd used my shampoo in the shower because the smell was my own in a way, but his masculine scent was very evident in the mix. I closed my eyes reflexively and pictured his face when we first met. I saw his eyes crinkle as he offered to help with the tire. Not knowing that he was responsible for its demise at the time, I'd truly appreciated his offer, and his handsome face had rendered me speechless for a second.

There was something about Edward that made me never want to tear my eyes away from him. I think it was based partly on a fear that I'd miss a miniscule but stunning new facial expression if I let my stare wander anywhere. He seemed to have so many profound looks, and I wanted to begin to understand what each one meant. What did it mean when he pursed his lips and drew both eyebrows up? Was it confusion or frustration? I realized I'd never know, and that fact was putting me in a rapidly deteriorating mood.

"Edward?" I called loudly, pausing to make sure he wasn't anywhere in the house that I'd managed to miss checking.

Only the constant sounds of the ocean answered me.

That didn't stop me from imagining what a real smile looked like on his face. With a heavy heart, knowing that I'd probably never get the opportunity to see genuine hapiness on his face, I went to make sure I was presentable enough to visit the store. Once I was satisfied with my hair and light makeup, I trudged to the front door with my purse and sunglasses. I locked the door behind me and made it exactly two steps down the porch before a flash of unexpected color to my left caught my eye.

My surfboards were propped up against the gate leading to the back of the house. They were most definitely waxed, not at all as dull looking as they'd been when I'd strapped them to the roof of my car the day before. That was odd. I studied said car and noticed that it appeared completely unpacked as well. It would just make my week if my car was robbed overnight, too. As if being kidnapped and emotionally torn up wasn't enough. I was confused for a minute before _his_voice surrounded me, the richness of it stirring something deep inside.

"I unpacked it all. Everything is inside the garage, near the door. I hope that's helpful."

He sounded like hope.

I tried to keep my breathing at a normal rate, seeing as how my heart had begun thudding raucously against my ribs the instant I heard him.

"Perfect. Thank you," I managed, turning slowly to face him.

There was no other word to describe him but striking. His hair was vibrant and wild while his eyes appeared somewhat more lively and clear than I remembered. The deep creases in his forehead were subtly softer, and I stared at the white cotton of his t-shirt as if it held the answers to the universe.

"I thought you left," I whispered quickly, unable to stop the admission from pouring out of my mouth.

Edward arched a brow before nodding slowly, "Right. I will...now, if that's what you want?"

My stare flew back to his, but I had a hard time seeing his expression because my head was shaking back and forth frantically. Damn it.

"Umm, no. I, I didn't mean that. It's just that I woke up, and I couldn't find you," I explained, mentally congratulating myself for being able to explain myself.

Edward seemed slightly distressed. He glanced behind him at my car and then turned to face me once more. His face was a mixture of embarrassment and insecurity.

"No, I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye and thank you, again," he spoke slowly, and I found myself transfixed by the careful thought he appeared to be putting into every word.

It was exactly what I needed to hear. I nodded.

"Good, because I was thinking some pretty un-nice things about you when I thought you did."

He smiled brightly, and I blinked stupidly in fascination at the beauty of his face when it was lit with fleeting contentment.

"Un-nice, Bella?"

"Yeah," I answered, staring as he walked a few steps closer.

"That's not even a word," his smile was gentle, and the teasing tone in his voice was unmistakable. He meant no harm, and I felt nothing but happiness flowing around me in the middle of our interaction.

"I know."

"Well, use a different one then," he continued.

I was a little confused then.

"Excuse me?"

Edward smirked at me, and I hated to admit that it was incredibly sexy. He had this underlying current of sensuality just flowing from him, and it was truly remarkable. The men I'd known and been with in the past did not exude such masculinity in their every action. I'd never felt such a draw to someone. Long ago, I'd convinced myself that attraction and passion grows with shared experiences and budding love, but Edward was proving me wrong with every simple look he shared with me. With every word he spoke to me, I felt this extraordinary tug in my chest, and I wanted more. It was never enough.

He inclined his head and spoke softly, "Use a different word to explain what you think of me," he clarified, and I know my face must have been ridiculous. I stared at him as if he had two heads.

"What? Why?"

He said nothing, only quirked one eyebrow impossibly higher.

"I'm the teacher. Not you. Is this an adjective lesson?" I bit back, growing slightly more irritated at his condescending playfulness.

His face instantly fell. I watched his shoulders bunch in tension, and the crease which I was quickly beginning to detest etched itself further into his beautiful forehead. I instantly felt guilty for being the reason his bright smile disappeared.

He replied immediately, "No, no, I'm sorry, Bella. I was only kidding," he looked at me apologetically, and I stared back speechlessly.

I wasn't really insulted. I was half joking with my response as well. As I studied his uncomfortable and somber expression, I realized two things. Number one: Edward was severely out of practice when it came to innocent social interaction. Number two: he'd obviously been scared into guarding everything he said and did, because he looked immediately regretful for slipping up and being playful for even a second. That made me feel like pond scum. Then, he actually started backing away from me, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as the distance between us grew. Then, I was the fungus that feeds on pond scum.

I walked the short distance he'd created between us and reached my hand out, grabbing at his upper arm to make him look at me.

"I was just kidding, too. Relax. You didn't upset me," I explained, watching in fascination as the dark green of his irises flashed in relief. I began to appreciate in that moment just how expressive Edward's eyes are. Even if you're looking _only_into them, ignoring the rest of his face, you can still see the differences. Happiness from despair. Excitement from boredom. Passion from apathy.

"Intriguing," I said quietly when he relaxed slightly.

"Hmm?"

I shrugged and met his stare. "I think you are intriguing."

That was probably a candidate for understatement of the year, but I was offering only the truth, just as I hoped he would in return.

"Bella," he said softly, and I knew what he was asking with the simple use of my name.

He didn't know where we were going after that. He wasn't sure what I wanted, and he was one hundred percent dedicated to letting me lead the way. He only wanted what I was comfortable with to take place. I truly appreciated that. I really did.

"I need to do some grocery shopping. Obviously, you can't come with me," I explained.

Edward nodded and turned to look at the house.

The risk was too great that he'd be recognized. While I hadn't watched the news on television the night before, I was fairly confident his picture and information would have been included in the local broadcast. I knew I wouldn't forget his face if I'd seen it televised.

"Stay. I'll make you some breakfast, and you can use the phone. Do you have some plans now?" I asked carefully, watching him shift nervously.

"Uh, not really. I have a number I'm supposed to call as soon as I think it's safe. That's my next step, but I was told not to use a landline."

He glanced back to me, and I smiled softly before answering him. "No problem. You can use my cell phone. I'll just leave it with you. The store is only down the street." I went digging through my purse, but my phone was nowhere to be found. I huffed as I continued my search, but Edward's outstretched hand with a red blinking light in it caught my attention. He had my Blackberry in his palm. I met his eyes, and he smiled again.

"I found it on the floor of your car," he supplied casually.

I nodded in understanding. It must have fallen during our scuffle the day before. I remembered placing it on the passenger seat just before hearing the news about him.

"I didn't look at it. I didn't even push a button," he hurried to offer.

I nodded silently and took it from him with a simple, "Thank you."

I quickly pushed the trackball and read the two new text messages waiting for me. One was from Alice and simply asked about the weather, while the other was from my mom wishing me a great trip. I took a deep breath and held the phone out to him. Edward studied me for a few seconds before his fingertips brushed my open palm, and I felt the weight of the phone disappear from my hand.

"I'll be back in a bit," I said without waiting for a response. I walked by him and was in my car before he'd moved an inch. I'm not sure what lit the fire beneath my feet, but I was suddenly eager to show Edward that I could be trusted as well. He'd been working hard to prove that he was worthy of my confidence in him, but it bothered me that he still seemed uncertain about me.

As I backed down the driveway, I could sense him watching me. I wondered what was going through his head. Did he think I'd really return? I had no clue if he'd be there when I got back. Did he trust that I wasn't on my way to get the police and turn him in as he remained a sitting duck in my house? I brushed all those irritating thoughts away and drove down the street without looking back. It was a test of sorts. If he was still there when I returned, he trusted me, too. After all, he needed to. I was all he had.

**

As I loaded the last bag of groceries into the trunk, I sighed and tried to ignore the gnawing ache of anxiousness in my stomach. I was so scared that he'd be gone. The drive back to the house was short and uneventful, but the beating of my heart told a different story altogether. I carried only my purse and the bag with the ice cream into the house on my first trip. I had plenty of other bags, and once I knew that he was still there, I'd ask him for help unloading the rest. I only had to unlock the door handle, finding the dead-bolt disengaged. That was a good sign. I walked quietly, freezing when I thought I heard him talking to someone. Immediate and overwhelming relief surged through me, and I was startled at the depth of emotion I was experiencing for Edward.

I padded ever so carefully down the hallway. The plush, creme colored carpeting helped to completely mute the sounds of my approach. Edward's voice was low and even, but I was confident that I'd be able to hear most of the conversation if I got close enough.

I crept to the wall, stopping just shy of his cracked bedroom door - the one he hadn't slept in. The bedside lamp was on, and I could see him sitting on the edge of the bed. He was bent over, his right arm braced on his thigh as he held my cell phone to his left ear.

"You can't come here. It's not safe. I'm sure you're being watched."

There was silence for a minute while the person on the other end responded. Edward sighed and furiously raked a hand through his hair.

"Of course they're suspicious, but they have no proof you helped me," he finally remarked.

I held my breath and strained to hear everything possible. I so desperately wanted to know who was on the other end and what their allegiances to Edward were.

"Yes, I'm fine, really," Edward interjected, "This woman, she's...she's," his voice trailed off, and I gripped the door jamb, waiting for him to say something, anything that would give me candid proof of his intentions and character.

"I don't know, man. She's amazing. Lucky doesn't even begin to describe what I am right now."

He was quiet again.

"Yes, I think so."

I shifted carefully.

"She's the only thing keeping me sane right now. I swear to God, I can't believe any of this. I just really don't want to be alone," he sounded so sincere, and I felt my heart make a decision it never even consulted me on.

I smiled softly at that but managed to let the plastic bag with the ice cream hit the wall in the process. I sucked in a quick, startled breath and rolled my eyes when I knew damn well he'd heard me. I was not stealth. Never had been, and I knew that about myself. My students consistently make fun of me for being completely unable to sneak up on them.

Edward paused in his conversation and slowly turned on the bed. He did not stand, but he brought his head up and stared directly at me. I bit my lip but stood my ground. I was caught, but I was not going to flee.

"Bella," he whispered softly, his eyes pleading and full of relief and wonder.

I opened my mouth in shock but had no idea what to say.

"Come here," he prodded gently.

I stood motionless in the doorway, confused and hesitant. I was more than a little surprised at his willingness to include me in his private conversation. Especially, seeing as how he'd refused to share details about the person responsible for helping him escape prison.

My feet moved to him on their own. I set my purse and bag down by the mirrored closet and stood at his side. Edward patted the spot beside him on the bed. I sat down and began furiously studying my folded hands. I didn't know what he wanted from me, and I felt like a prying fool.

"I'm going to get going, man. I'll call the new number sometime tomorrow. Please, be safe and careful...and," I looked up from my lap only when I heard the tremble in Edward's voice.

He took a deep breath, and I moved my gaze to his eyes, noting the gathering tears. I figured he'd tried hard to keep it together for however long the conversation had lasted, but for some reason, saying goodbye was proving very difficult for him. I was able to hear a male voice on the other end, and I couldn't be sure, but I thought I heard a distinctly tender, female voice interjecting every so often.

I was only able to make out a conviction filled, "We love you so much, Edward," before his breathing became ragged. I looked down and saw the fingers of his right hand rubbing at the material of his jeans on his thigh. He was trying to distract himself from his emotions.

"Yeah," his voice was gruff, and I felt him holding his breath.

I took one more look at his face and made my decision. I reached out with both hands, gathering his only free hand in mine, squeezing at his fingers and feeling nothing but pure relief when his intertwined with mine, returning the pressure and contact. I watched our hands as they rested in his lap. I heard him take a deep breath.

"I love you guys, too. I..." he paused, so I squeezed again, "I _will_ see you again. Tell the girls I miss them so much."

There was no question. I heard and felt the honesty in him.

"Soon, Edward," I heard the words filter through the speaker against his ear.

"Right. Bye, now."

"Bye, Eddie," I heard intense emotion in the other man's voice as they ended the call. Edward pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed the disconnect button. His hand trembled. I watched as the call screen changed, flashing 14:08 for a moment as an indicator of how long the call had lasted.

Neither one of us moved. His hand continued to grip at mine, and I studied his profile. After a minute or two, I grew eager for his voice.

"Are you okay?" I asked carefully.

He turned his head and stared openly into my eyes. The answer was clear. No, but he was doing as well as could be expected.

"Edward?" I whispered, not sure what I could say to him.

I knew that I didn't want to take my hands away, but I wasn't sure if he wanted my continued touch. I tested the waters by subtly pulling back from the tangle of his fingers. Instantaneously, his left hand, which had previously been holding the phone, flew from its spot on his side and covered our hands. He took one in each of his own and stared. His head shook back and forth slowly; he had it bowed, and I was able to see only the wild, beautiful hair on the top of his head.

"You are real, right?" he asked hoarsely after a moment with the tiniest hint of playfulness in his voice.

I licked my lips but remained quiet.

Slowly, he raised his head, and I was overcome with tears of my own when I saw every single defense Edward possessed completely gone from his face. I was staring at him. The real him. He hid nothing from me, and it felt like I was looking at a different person. His eyes were tender and trusting. His forehead was smooth, and his lips were parted slightly. He studied my eyes, nose, lips, cheeks. I felt his gaze brushing over every part of my face.

"I'm all real. That's for sure."

He stared at me in wonder and amusement.

"Are you hungry?" I asked after a moment.

Edward laughed softly and gave me the most magnificent smile. He squeezed my hands gently and nodded his head.

"I am, Bella." There was nothing but appreciation in his voice.

I nodded happily and after rubbing my thumb against the skin of his palm once, withdrew my hands.

"Good. Help me then," I encouraged him.

And, he did. We brought all the food in, unpacked it, stocked the fridge, and had several pancakes made within the hour.

It felt normal even though it was anything but.

**

After we finished breakfast, I changed into a bathing suit and offered to let Edward borrow a pair of board shorts from the tons of clothes people have left behind over the years. He was extremely hesitant at first, but I explained that there was no use in sitting around like a caged animal if he could try and forget his worries for a bit. It didn't make any sense for him to dwell on things while he was powerless to do anything to change them. His brow had furrowed, and he looked completely overwhelmed for a minute before his face cleared and he agreed.

He was so sweet when we finally ventured out to the sand. He insisted on setting up the large beach blanket himself, refusing to let me even hold a corner. He rolled another towel and indicated that I should use it a headrest. I peered up at him, ducking closer to look under the bill of the baseball cap he kept pulled down over his hair and smiled my thanks. He smirked back and gestured with a hand in the direction of his handiwork. He tugged his t-shirt over his head, and I followed the motion and had to blink in order to clear my head when I found myself staring at the most beautiful chest and stomach I'd ever personally admired.

It was obvious that he worked out, but I found his body to be incredibly strong without screaming of muscle and power. He was completely toned, his abs defined and gorgeous, but I loved that he appeared so very lithe and graceful. I could picture his arms wrapped around me, his legs intertwined with my own, and I was quickly desiring his graceful hands on my body.

Edward's dramatic moan of approval as he took a spot on the big blanket snapped me out of my hungry thoughts. He was all man, and my attraction to him was easy enough to write off as natural instinct, but I knew there was more to it. Denial only goes so far.

"Get down here," he prodded gently.

I laughed lightly at him, but soon delighted in the comfortable spot he'd created as well. A little wiggling of my butt and back, and I had a cozy spot for the day. I sighed in delight as I slipped my sunglasses from their perch on top of my head and closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of the mid-morning sun seep into my starving skin.

I lay there quietly, listening distractedly to the scattered voices of fellow beach-goers, the crashing waves, seagulls, and the occasional plane. Edward was content at my side, not feeling the need to chatter needlessly or interrupt the peaceful quiet between us. He was the perfect partner to enjoy the beach with. I looked to him, surveying the gorgeous olive tan on his arms, neck, and face. However, my eyes immediately found the tender, paler skin of his chest. He was unaware of my stare, his eyes closed from what I could see under his shades.

I was concerned.

"Hey," I called softly, not wanting to startle him if he was dozing off.

His head lolled to the side immediately, and I smiled softly.

"You're going to burn on your chest and shoulders," I explained, pointing one finger at his obvious t-shirt tan.

He flashed me a smile, "Yeah, thanks. I'll turn over," he replied.

"No, here," I answered, extending my hand and producing the bottle of sunblock I'd purchased that morning.

He took it, holding it above his face for a minute so that he could read the bottle.

"Thank you," he offered sincerely.

"Of course."

"Do you have it on?" he asked with concern lacing his voice as he sat up and poured a decent amount into his palm.

I smiled at him, amazed at the conversation we were actually having. It was so normal and completely surreal.

"Yes, I put it on in the house."

"Good. You're not exactly sunkissed yet," he said happily.

I laughed genuinely and bumped his leg with my own. "I take skin-care seriously. I don't want to be wrinkly before my time."

Edward slathered the cream all over his chest, his hands smoothing it against his sides and stomach before he focused on his upper chest. I watched him in amazement, almost missing it when he replied.

"Something tells me you'd still be stunning."

I opened my mouth to reply, but I just couldn't come up with anything. He finished with the cream and laid it between our bodies. I watched as he reclined, sighed softly, and turned to stare at me once more.

No words were exchanged, and I had a hard time seeing through my and his sunglasses, but I figured that his eyes were closed when his breathing deepened. I closed my eyes as well, not exactly willing to admit how reassuring I found his soft breaths, which I could just barely hear from my spot at his side. It all felt so natural. It felt right, and I didn't want to lose it.

**

"I'm getting really warm. I'm going for a swim," I said after about thirty minutes of lounging in the sand. Edward quickly pulled his attention away from the people-watching he'd been engrossed in and nodded.

"Oh, okay," he replied kindly.

I thought I detected something else in his voice, so I stood and turned to face him with my back to the water.

"Do you want to come? I'm swimming to that," I explained, turning to point at the square, floating dock anchored just a ways off shore.

The docks are there every summer, and swimming out to them was always a favorite activity for me and all my friends. While they appear very close, it's actually a decent swim past the breaking waves and out to the first buoys before you reach what my dad always referred to as "the floating mattresses." If ever my parents couldn't find me on the beach, they knew to search the profiles of the ten to fifteen kids always present on the docks. Nine times out of then, I'd be front and center.

Edward looked out to the water and enthusiastically nodded his head.

"Definitely," he replied, standing and moving to my side.

"Leave your hat and sunglasses," I advised, mentally recounting the numerous pairs I've lost in the waves over the years.

Edward bit his lip gently and looked around us. No one was paying attention. A few families were nearby, but they were engrossed in watching their young children or half-asleep themselves.

"It's okay. No one is looking for you here," I offered, trying my best to reassure him.

He seemed to agree as he pulled the hat off and dropped both to our towel. I made my way to the water, sensing him close behind me. A small wave hit my toes, and I smiled at the familiar cold.

"That's seriously cold," Edward exclaimed breathily from my side.

"Don't prolong it. Just get in," I laughed back, and he smiled brightly.

He did exactly as I suggested. He walked forward quickly, getting past the first few waves before he disappeared under one. I chuckled and dove after him, swimming easily through the gentle tide and surfacing where I was just able to feel the sand below my feet. I had to tread water, but a few steps back, and I would have been able to stand. Edward was having no trouble in the calm water.

"No fair. You're taller," I joked, noting his relaxed stance.

He smiled back, "You ready?"

"Yep," I answered as we headed toward the float.

We swam side by side, and it only took us a few minutes before we were close enough to hear a few of the kids hanging out on our intended destination.

"Dude, there's a big fish right there!" One little boy yelled excitedly to his friend.

"No way. That's so freaky. Imagine what else is down there," came the enthusiastic reply.

I heard Edward's laughter, and I smiled at him as we approached the small ladder needed to climb out of the water.

"You first," he offered.

I climbed up quickly, fully aware that Edward's view consisted of nothing but my ass and legs until I made it up. To his credit, his face was nothing but kind and respectful when he climbed up and took a seat next to me, our feet dangling over the edge into the water we'd just left. We were both breathing quickly, swaying with the movement of the raft.

"Hi," three boys and two young girls waved from the other side of the raft.

I felt Edward tense slightly at my side, but I smiled at the kids and was confident that they couldn't be anymore than eleven or twelve years old.

"Hey, guys. Having a fun day?" I asked.

Their smiles were adorable.

"Oh, yeah! It's so cool out here. We brought our boogie boards, though. You guys are cool. You swam out here without anything?" Their voices were full of wonder.

It was not a difficult swim but to their young eyes, it was a big, adventurous journey they'd accomplished. I smiled and was genuinely surprised when Edward spoke first.

"The boogie boards were a really good idea! We just didn't have one. That way, you guys can take your time going back."

The kids thought over Edward's response, seemingly deciding if they were in fact cooler than us for having the boards.

"He's totally right,"one of the girls suddenly exclaimed with an emphatic shake of her head. She reminded me of a young Rose.

Everyone else turned to look at her and nodded their heads excitedly.

"Yeah, that way we won't get tired, and we can come back out here all day. We could even put our lunches in Ziplock bags and eat out here," one of them added.

The excitement grew, and I turned to look at Edward. The admiration on his face was priceless. He was truly enjoying watching them, and I felt my heart constrict with feeling for him.

Our legs were almost touching, and I moved my left foot slightly, bumping his at it hung just over the water's surface.

"Look," I whispered, not wanting to attract the attention of our fellow rafters.

Edward looked immediately out our feet when he felt the contact.

"See it?" I asked softly.

He studied the water for a minute before his eyes found the small, harmless sand shark swimming a few feet away.

"Yes."

We both admired it for a while as it swam gracefully. The kids grew increasingly loud, and I turned to see that the next raft over was deserted. It wasn't too far, and I really enjoyed swimming, so I suggested a move.

"Want to swim to that one before we head back?" I asked Edward.

He agreed happily. He jumped back into the water, and I followed after saying goodbye to the kids. We started toward the other float, and I tried to ignore the annoying ache on my left side. I recognized it as a cramp similar to the ones I sometimes get during cardio workouts, but it didn't feel that bad, so I kept up with Edward's decent pace.

After a while, it grew increasingly painful, so I tried rolling onto my back, swimming in a pathetic excuse for a backstroke style while I tried to find relief.

Edward was completely unaware of my discomfort, and I began to panic. It was disarming, but I was beginning to feel helpless as he continued on. He never left me behind, but his strong swimming was beginning to scare me. I wanted him back at my side in case it got worse. We were out way past where either of us could stand, and it would take some decent swimming to make it back to a safe point.

"Edward," I called to him once, but he continued on. I struggled to keep up. He didn't hear me as his head dipped into the water with his breaststroke.

The damn cramp intensified, and I assumed the cold water mixed with accumulated tension from the past day must have played a role in its appearance, because I'd never suffered from a swimmer's cramp in my life, and this was a hell of a start.

I felt my panic grow as I fought to stay above the water and ignore the intense stabbing.

"Edward," I spoke loudly, and I exhaled shakily when I saw him freeze. He pulled up and glanced back to where I'd frozen in the water, treading it but not moving.

"Bella?" he called to me with confusion.

"I have a really...ow, shit, I have a really bad cramp," I explained, motioning for him to give me a minute.

His eyes widened, and I closed my eyes, focusing on deep breaths. I heard commotion in the water, and I tried to tell him I'd be fine.

"It's okay. Just give me a minute," I started, but he was having none of that. I felt his arms wrapping around me from behind before I could say anything else.

I gasped softly as he molded himself to me and reclined us in the water. I felt his legs kicking gently as he kept us afloat. I let the tension pour out of my body.

"Relax, I've got you," he spoke into my right ear, and the pain became so fierce that I dropped my head onto his shoulder and had no choice but to let him keep me safe. I opened my eyes, and my stare met the skin of his neck.

"Ungh," I moaned frustratingly.

"Where is it?" he asked gently.

"Lower left side. Here," I answered, taking one of his hands from where it was holding me and moving it to the area just below and left of my belly button.

"I'm just going to rub it, okay? Massaging it will help," he explained soothingly.

I nodded furiously, eager for him to do whatever he thought best if it was going to bring me some sort of relief.

A small cry erupted from my chest, and I moved to sit up slightly, aggravated with the pain and panicking that it was only going to get worse.

"Hey, you're okay. I'm right here, and there's a lifeguard on the beach, too. He sees us. Nothing is going to happen to you," Edward explained, and I closed my eyes at the sincerity in his voice. I found the situation distressing because I felt so helpless. It was strange to rely on Edward, but I knew that I was safe with him. The irony was thick.

I felt his fingers pressing into my side, and the pain was still strong enough to obscure most of the sensation coming from his hands. The pressure grew, and I felt him rubbing small but firm circles directly over the pain's center. I relaxed as best I could, feeling the current pulling us gently as Edward expertly kept us floating along.

His breathing was fast against my neck and ear, but he never seemed out of breath. I felt both of his hands take up working on my side, and the pain blissfully began to lessen with each passing second.

"Better," I murmured, and he dropped his head forward slightly, nodding against my shoulder.

"Good," he whispered, and I felt shivers rocket through my body at the intimacy of his voice and embrace.

He kept up his tender ministrations for a few minutes until every last trace of pain was gone. I felt better than when we'd started swimming. I took deep breaths, and they filled me with relief. I told him it was all gone, but he kept me there for a few more minutes, insisting that we not take a chance at letting it come back. I began to kick and float for myself, holding on to him when the water pulled us in different directions. His hands never left my side.

As we floated, surely looking like content lovers to anyone who may have been observing us from the shore, I found myself thanking God for him. He seemed like a curse the day before, but as his hands stilled and he locked them around my stomach, cradling me to him like I was the most precious thing in the world, I knew I was wrong to have ever felt that way.

"Edward?" I whispered, staring into the bright, blue sky.

I felt him nod behind me, "Yeah?"

I took a deep, satisfying breath and answered him, "I believe you."

His arms tightened their sweet hold around me, and I felt his lips drop to my neck.

The tender kiss he laid there was the only thanks I needed.

**


End file.
